Bird of Mine
by Vampykitty-kun
Summary: Tim awoke within a room that was stale aired, pitch black, and completely soundless. He was ill, and even if he HAD been able to move, the shackle around his ankle meant he would not be leaving anytime soon. As far as Dick knew, he was dead, and that put him at Jason's mercy. To make matters worse, the man was dead-set on him being his personal plaything, a pet of sorts...


This will constantly be a work in progress, something to dabble in when I'm stuck in other fics.

This fic starts off in 'Battle for the Cowl', after Tim's fight with Jason, and branches off into an AU from there. One where after dragging Tim off, he stashed him at a separate location instead, and then returned to his 'cave' to wait for Dick's arrival. Thus making his statement to Dick that Tim is dead seemingly legit.

And we go from there.

Pairing is Jay/Tim, and we're dealing with a darker, currently flipped out Jason. Should be fun!

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Tim awoke sluggishly with a fog in his head and stiffness in his joints. The room was stale aired, pitch black, and completely soundless. He shifted, hoping to push himself up with his hands, but his muscles refused to cooperate, and his sternum erupted with fire. A croak of a gasp left his lips, and he squeezed his eyes shut, praying for the sudden onslaught of pain to cease.

Keeping entirely still, and slowing his breathing brought the pain down somewhat, reducing it to a throbbing heated ache. Once his mind cleared to a degree he remembered.

He had been fighting Jason.

Jason had wanted him to be _his_ Robin.

He had declined.

Jason had stabbed him.

And then he faintly recalled playing possum, feeling the scrap and tear at his back as he was dragged, and then…

Darkness.

He drew a blank.

Despite his efforts, he must have legitimately blacked out from the blood loss. Which explained why his body was stiff, his brain was swirling, and his stomach was doing flips despite the lack of motion. He shifted his arm, sliding his hand slowly up his ribs, reaching towards his center. His fingertips brushed up against gauze and he let out a sharp hiss.

He was not in the cave, either of them, he knew that much.

Tim did not get dwell on things long, for he blacked out once more.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Tim was not sure how much time had passed since he had last awoke, but nothing had changed. He was still in the same location, alone, able to see nothing but black. He tested his limbs once more, forcing the stiff muscles to obey him. He was on a mattress, no pillows, no sheets. That much told him that he had not been found, that more than likely, Jason had deposited him wherever he was.

It hurt too much to sit up, he gave up after the first two tries, the sharp stabbing pains erupting from his chest making it impossible to think straight, sapping his energy. He had lost a lot of blood, the wound caused by the batarang to his sternum had likely caused a severe class two hemorrhage, draining him of far too much blood to function, but not enough to make him critical.

It seemed as though he would not be moving anytime soon.

He was cold, delirious, and riddled with pain, and if he had not been so dehydrated, he might have cried.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Tim awoke for the third time laying in the same exact position, the room still in the same state of darkness, and still completely, utterly alone.

This he could not understand.

With the area being pitch black, there were clearly no cameras on him, so why leave him alone, unsupervised, in agony? Surely he was not meant to die like this, otherwise, why have treated his wound at all?

How long had it even been?

He was parched, and hungry, and still oh so very tired.

He tried to cry out, but only managed a soft croak, nothing that would alert anyone to his distress. He shifted on the mattress, giving a poor attempt at exploring his surroundings, forcing his muscles to move once again, trying to keep his chest steady.

This time, he made a discovery that sent his heart rate climbing.

His left ankle was cuffed. A wide cuff, and judging by the rattle caused by his straining, said cuff had a pretty hefty chain attached.

Tim let out distressed whine, giving a dry sob, throat constricting, and eyes burning.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Tim had awoken, and fallen back asleep several times before anything had changed. He felt ill. Nauseous from the lack of sustenance. A constant burning ache throbbed in his chest. He was beginning to suspect infection. The wounds on his neck and shoulders, things he had nearly forgotten about, stung sharply, and the entirety of his body was sore from the lack of movement.

He had truly begun to believe that he was going to die there in the unbearably silent, dark, stuffy room, alone, and abandoned.

Until Jason returned.

The door had flown open, spilling too bright artificial light into the darkness, and Tim awoke with a yelp and whine as he turned his face away. The door shut tightly once more with a loud metallic thud, drowning the room in darkness once more, and he listened to the clunking of the heavy boots walking across the cement.

Bare fingers ghosted across his forehead, and he flinched at the contact, the too cool temperature a shock to his system.

Seemingly, his assumption of infection was correct, and he had become feverish.

The man hovering above let out a low growl, to which he responded with a pitiful whimper, before suddenly there was light once more, far dimmer than the bright bulbs outside of the chamber. Tim strained his eyes to adjust to the sudden change, blinking rapidly as he tried to locate Jason's form with his eyes, but his vision was blurred and he could not focus. His stomach lurched, and he squeezed his eyes shut, sucking in deep ragged breaths, willing away the heaving gag feeling spreading up his chest.

Without warning, his head was suddenly lifted upright, and as he eyes snapped open to see why, there was a water bottle at his lips. Jason tilted it upward, the water streaming into his mouth, and he chugged it quickly, sputtering as it soothed his dry scratchy throat. Quicker than he would have liked, it was taken away once more, and he watched the man hobble away slowly.

Whatever had gone on since their confrontation, however long ago that had been, had injured him. Even with seeing doubles, he had been able to see how tattered the remaining bits of the modified Batsuit were, the split lip, and the plethora of scratches scattered across his face on top of whatever leg injury he had obtained. Likely had re-torn something in his previously injured knee, Tim reasoned.

Jason was cursing softly across the room, tossing supplies around, and Tim could not suppress his flinching each time he slammed something down on a surface. He felt unnaturally tired again, and fought against his drowsiness, watching Jason's blurred back as he tinkered with whatever.

He had not even realized he had shut his eyes until they jolted open as a stabbing pain spread throughout his arm. He gave a weak yelp, and turned his head to stare down at the source of the pain, watching as Jason poked at prodded at him with an intravenous line. At the other end of the line a blood bag hung, and Tim felt his nearly empty stomach flop again at the sight, and had to turn away. This was perhaps a mistake, as moments later, Jason was manhandling him and turning him slightly to side before jabbing a syringe in his rear. Penicillin, judging by the dull burn, confirming that he was correct about the infection and fever.

The last thing he saw before blacking out entirely once more was Jason's eyes. Oddly seemingly concerned despite the circumstances that had put him there in the first place.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

The next time Tim awoke his mind was not as cloudy, and his stomach was less of a mess, but _everything_ still hurt. The I.V. in his arm was no longer attached to a blood bag feed, instead it was now simply dripping fluids.

He was alone once more, but this time the light had been left on, and with his vision better than it had been previously he was able to get a thorough look at his surroundings. It was a large, relatively bare room, which Tim assumed was entirely intentional. It was essentially a concrete box, with a steel door, and the only contents were the mattress he was draped across, the countertop at the far end of the room, the lamp, and a transparent drawer cabinet that looked to be filled to the brim with medical supplies. He glanced down at his ankle, to the device attached, and sighed. Even if he were able to sit upright, let alone walk, there would be no removing it. The cuff had screws on top of a complex key lock, attached to a long stretch of thick heavy chain, and he had to admit, he was not going anywhere anytime soon.

He had been coherent for perhaps fifteen minutes when he heard the metallic clang of the door lock being released. In stepped Jason, sans bat-gear, wearing closer to what he had been wearing several months back, domino in place over his eyes. He shut the door with a loud bang, standing with his arms crossed over his chest as he leered at Tim, a smirk spreading across his face.

"Looks like your back among the living, welcome home _Drake_..." He drawled, stepping towards him.

"How long?" He managed to croak out, coughing at the scratchiness of his throat.

Jason towered over him, looking him over with a bored look on his face.

"Four days. Admittedly, it was not my intention to lock you up and leave you half dead for three of those, but Dickie-bird had other plans, and I was off limping and licking my wounds afterwards. Took a while to pick up supplies and get back here in that state. Nothing pain pills weren't able to fix so I'm good now. Was a tad bit afraid you'd be in an even worse state, but you're quite the fighter. Knew you'd at least still be breathing." He laughed darkly.

Tim frowned, furrowing his brow as he stared up at his blank white lenses.

"I… I don't understand, wh-"

"Why? I've already told you why. I gave you a proposition, and you turned me down. 'Cept I don't take no for an answer, and I'm a sore loser." He sighed, making his way around the mattress. "So now, you're mine, entirely."

Tim twitched, sucking in a sharp breath.

"You can't just-"

"Oh I do believe I can Baby-bird. See, Goldie and his little demon minion think you bit the big one, if not by my own hand like I told them, then by the explosion and cave in I set off when he decided it was time to tango. Granted, that has him raging like a beast, but that means that they aren't looking for you. You're at my mercy. It's up to me to keep you alive, fed, and safe, and hell- I've always wanted a _pet_." He chuckled, running a hand through Tim's bangs, noting with amusement how Tim slunk back from it. "And I've been told that homeless strays are the best, the most loyal… and I'm looking forward to that, yes indeed."

With that, a new feeling of dread spread throughout his chest at, and Tim was left wondering whether or not he would have preferred for Jason to have left him there alone to rot or not.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-


End file.
